EnDurians...

These photos pretty much depict the general sentiment/sensation of the group as they tried their first taste of durian in the streets of Chinatown in Kuala Lumpur.



Some call the fruit fragrant, some call it fetid, some call it putrid.



Immediately after her first taste of durian, Melissa smoked 2 ciggies just to get rid of the taste. Theresa is still recovering, I think. Gary has been silenced. Wordless. No vocabulary adequately describes the experience. Perhaps that is why his journal is missing -- it couldn't quite live up to the responsibility of writing about the durian experience. Allan didn't like it, but the durian was able to woo him back for a second tasting (along w/ Jeffrey, MaiAnh and HoangAnh sitting in the dining room of Dong Phuong Hotel, Saigon) in which he ate probably 1/4 of the delicious fruit.



The whole event was a blur, and most have blocked the experience out of their minds. (Side note: Melissa and Abby both purchased durian candy to bring back to their loved ones in the U.S. Oh, the troubles we endure for those we love!) For the record, Jeffrey, Mai-Anh and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE durian.



On our first night in Kuala Lumpur, Jeffrey, Mai-Anh and I went to Chinatown by ourselves looking for durian. We got off the train, walked to Chinatown (Jeffrey led the way since it's his neck of the woods), and headed straight for the fruit stalls selling durian. We were still about a block away when I caught a whiff of the wonderful smell of durian. Jeffrey led us directly to a stall, picked out a Malaysian durian the size of a small melon (only 8 ringits per kilo) and the stall owner split it open right there where we stood. The wife pulled out four plastic chairs, and we dropped down onto three, waiting for the "presentation." When they placed it in front of us, my mouth started watering, just thinking about the sweet taste of the flesh melting in my mouth. We dug into it with our fingers, each grabbing a section of yellow durian meat, and in two minutes it was gone. Never mind the fact that we were watched by practically everyone on that side of the street. Never mind the fact that even our clothes smelled like durian. It was delicious!

The next evening, we took everyone to Chinatown to try durian, and that's where all the photos came from. It wasn't until our arrival in Saigon that we were able to enjooy durian again. That time, Allan joined the three of us in the dining room of Dong Phuong Hotel. It was about midnight, and we finished only 2/3 of the durian. The rest we bequethed to the hotel bellmen who were guarding the hotel that night. (Allan said that when he returned to his room, before he could say a word, Gary could tell immediately that he had consumed durian.) You might think we're the only crazy folks who eat durian. But, it's the king of fruits, you know.

In Singapore, there is even a building called the Durian.


Our last tasting of durian on this trip was the last night we were in Saigon. It was almost 12:30 a.m. on Sunday, and we had to check-out at 3:00 a.m. to go to the airport. But, we had to have one last night. I hopped on a motorcycle with a friend and she buzzed me through the busy night traffic and we found a stall that sold durian. 40,000 VND per kilo ($2.50 per kilo). The one we chose was almost 3 kilos, totaling 110,000 VND. They split the durian for us right on the spot and packaged it "to go". When I brought it back to the hotel, the entire lobby smelled of durian. It wasn't difficult to locate. We loved it so much. We were tired and sleepy but the durian was delicious. We didn't get to bed until early in the a.m., but it was absolutely worth it.

Now, after returning home, I can only find whole, frozen durians. Nothing compared to the real fruit -- fresh and fragrant. But, it'll have to do. It'll have to do. For now.

Princes of Peace

The Princes of Peace
By Emily McGaughy
(A week after my 2 week immersion in South East Asia)

Four faces, one audience,
four spaces, different stays.
Don't recall days and times,
some I've forgotten names.

A lawyer
A monk
A JUST world activist
An ecumenical advocate
2 Muslims
1 Buddhist
1 Christian

A down-pour, motivated by up-rising,
an experiment in "how things could be,"
taking the privatization and exclusion
out of religion,
thank you for making "us" into "we."

Re-entry

Re-entry is always an interesting process. For me, the biggest challenge this week has been convincing my body to readjust to California time. I still want to sleep all day and be up all night. That aside, I have begun to see and talk to friends and family. Everyone wants to know- "How was Asia?" It is such a big question and the experience is incredibly difficult to package into a small and convenient answer. So instead, I find myself offering bits and pieces of the experience to those who will listen. This is also frustrating, as it does not fully illustrate the way that the experience has and will continue to impact me. But the truth is, I am unsure of its impact. I do know that the last two weeks were an amazing opportunity to get to know a fabulous group of fellow PSR/GTU community members, connect with people in many different countries, and most importantly, continue to broaden my world view. I shared an image with the group during our closing ritual that I think best conveys what the trip was for me- a blossoming lotus flower. Our immersion experience in Southeast Asia has opened me farther and will continue to allow me to blossom fully into who and what I am to be in this world.

Many thanks to EVERYONE who made it possible for us to go on this trip: donors, fundraisers, staff, faculty, my fellow travelers, loved ones at home, speakers, the people that we met with, and all the individuals and communities that welcomed us with open arms during our trip. This trip was a huge blessing for me and certainly will be a highlight of my seminary experience.

Photographic journal?

I'm currently editing and uploading my photos onto a web album which I'll link to on this blog, but it'll take a little more time. Does anyone already have a web album up and running? Please let me know. I've got some folks who are very eager to see our pictures!

Malik Imtiaz Sarwar's Disquiet

On Saturday, January 13th, the group met with Malik Imtiaz Sarwar, a lawyer and President of the National Human Rights Society in Malaysia, Article 11. The group of 13 NGOs that make up Article 11 include:

1. All Women's Action Society (AWAM)
2. Bar Council Malaysia
3. Catholic Lawyers Society
4. Interfaith Spiritual Fellowship
5. pro-tem committee of the Malaysian Civil Liberties Society (MCLS)
6. Malaysian Consultative Council of Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, and Sikhism (MCCBCHS)
7. National Human Rights Society (Hakam)
8. Pure Life Society
9. Sisters in Islam (SIS)
10. Suara Rakyat Malaysia (Suaram)
11. Vivekanda Youth Movement of Seremban
12. Women's Aid Organization (WAO)
13. Women's Development Collective (WDC)

The group used the unifying name of Article 11 based upon the article in the Malaysian constitution which guarantees freedom of religion.

In the capacity of President of the National Human Rights Society, Mr. Imtiaz carefully detailed to us a general synopsis of the social and political contexts within Malaysia since 1987-88, when the legal battles began. His insightful comments provided us with a rather detailed analysis of Malaysia.

Towards the end of his conversation, Imtiaz mentioned that it continues to be an uphill battle, struggling against the human rights violations in Malaysia. It becomes more and more difficult for moderate Malays to speak up and out. The effort now is to "increase the space" where they can do so safely and with results. The movement, says Imtiaz, must be built on advocacy -- on recognizing the need to speak up for every individual instead of just for one's self -- otherwise the movement based on personalities will be "decapitated."

One way of doing this, one way of speaking out, says Imtiaz, is to speak up as individuals in whatever capacity possible. Create change through one voice and from there create a movement of advocacy.

Visit Malik Imtiaz Sarwar's Disquiet, and hear about the current events in Malaysia.

On Holy Ground

While on the bus for hours on end, the group began singing various songs, and one in particular became our theme song, so to speak, for the duration of the trip. (It was either sing On Holy Ground or listen to Christmas carols or renditions of Amazing Grace sung to such tunes as House of the Rising Sun.)

On Holy Ground

When I walked through the doors I sensed his presence
And I knew this was a place where love abounds
For this is a temple the God we love abides here
And we are standing in his presence
On holy ground

We are standing on holy ground
And I know there are angels all around
Let us praise, praise God now, praise him anyhow
For we are standing in his sweet presence
On holy ground

In his presence I know there is joy beyond all measure
And at his feet sweet peace of mind can still be found
For when we have a need he is still the answer
Reach out and claim it for we are standing
On holy ground

We are standing on holy ground
And I know there are angels all around
Let us praise, praise God now, praise him anyhow
For we are standing in his sweet presence
On holy ground

In truth, we really did walk upon holy ground throughout this trip: within the walls of Chi Lin Nunnery, upon the cool tiles of Sultan Mosque, outside the hot buildings of Masjid Negara Malaysia, along the dank alleyways of Little India, inside the shops at Tsim Sha Tsui, beside the cool waters of Nha Trang beach... It wasn't the beautiful landscapes or the scenery that caught our eyes. Wherever we went as a group, as a community of peoples of faith journeying together, we walked on holy ground.

Wild Geese

During the two week journey, many of us felt conflicted about quite a few stories we'd heard, images we'd seen, and places we'd visited. It wasn't easy thinking about our roles and responsibilities within these larger socio-political-cultural contexts, especially given our keen awareness of some of the histories that have been written and are being written. I found refuge in the words of a poem by Mary Oliver, the words which I'd carried within my writing journal for the trip. Sharing the poem with the group during a few of our discussions helped, I hope, to offer different insights. I share it here and invite comments for reflection.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

- Mary Oliver